Picking Up the Pieces
by Impalette42
Summary: Summary: Sequel to 'Shattered Beginnings.' They thought they'd found the answer. They were wrong. Sick!Dean. Spoilers for 'Faith.' 'Beginning's Verse': AU Pilot- Dean and Sam's first meeting actually occurred months later, during the events of Faith.
1. Chapter 1

**Picking Up the Pieces**

_Summary: Sequel to 'Shattered Beginnings.' They thought they'd found the answer. They were wrong. Sick!Dean. Spoilers for 'Faith'_

'Beginning's Verse': AU Pilot- Dean and Sam's first meeting actually occurred months later, during the events of Faith. The story closely follows canon, at least to start. After that I kind of weave their world whichever way I find convenient, but basically, Jess is still alive and John's still missing.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Supernatural sandbox, but I do so love playing in it.

* * *

_Dean moved quickly over the open ground, his muscles alert, the chill running through his body having little to do with the cool night air. Though the only light came from a few pole-lamps, he was a hunter. He didn't need much. _

_His eyes searched the night for the creature he knew was out there. Watched for it._

_Waited for it._

_With a sickening 'POP', the first lamp went out, followed by the next bulb and the next and so on down the row until Dean was plunged into darkness. Felt a shiver go down his spine._

_Felt it watching him._

_He turned, came face to face with its dark empty eyes, its withered skin…so pale it was almost translucent. It's cold smile._

_The reaper put a hand to his face, and he could actually feel the life being drained out of him. Could feel himself dying._

_He was caught._

_He was dead._

_He was…_

Dreaming.

With a jolt, Dean opened his eyes.

"Okay, we'll be back in a few days…."

Sam sat on the opposite bed, his back to Dean, talking quietly into his cell phone, voice low so as not to disturb his brother.

"Yeah, I'll tell him…. I know. I miss you too, babe." Sam picked absently at the edge of the comforter as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "I love you," he said softly, before ending the call.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, Sam?" He said, voice still rough with sleep.

"Hmm?"

"Where's the trash can?"

Sam turned, surprised as he realized his brother was awake. "Um, over here. Why?"

Dean massaged his temple. "Cause listening to you two lovebirds… I may hurl."

"Nice." Sam replied. He put the phone on the nightstand and moved around the bed so he could sit facing Dean. "How're you feeling?"

"What? Fine."

"Right. How are you feeling?"

Dean made a face. He considered his options. Between the headache and the fact that he was still too tired for a good lie, he settled on a rare moment of honesty. "Still kinda rough."

_Fucking reaper._

"How long?" Dean asked, pushing himself to a sitting position.

"You've been out cold for like 18 hours, man. I was gettin' a little worried."

Eighteen hours?

Dean glanced at the clock in surprise. Shit. He'd been asleep for 18 hours.

It had been just over that since they'd stopped Sue Ann, destroyed both the cross and the altar she'd used to harness Death. Dean had crashed as soon as he'd touched a bed, completely wiped from his second go-round with the reaper. Hell, he'd barely made it back to the motel still conscious. Sam was on alert the whole drive making sure Dean didn't run them into a tree.

Dean ran a hand over his face.

Eighteen hours...Damn, he really must have been in bad shape if he'd been out that long. Then again, nearly dying…again…tended to take a lot out of a guy. Despite all the sleep, Dean still felt like shit run over twice. Or twenty times. And his head was screaming for some attention, not to mention some aspirin, right about now. He really needed to do something about that, except that his Dad had always taught them to prioritize, and right now, the building pressure on his bladder was vying for Grand Marshall of the pain parade.

"Jess says to give you a hug from her, by the way," Sam said casually, doing his best to control his amusement. He knew how his brother got about emotional displays of any kind.

"Raincheck, thanks," Dean replied, already shuffling towards the bathroom. "Though I guess I should be glad she didn't send a kiss."

Dean heard his brother snicker as he shut the door. As soon as his wall of privacy was secure, Dean grimaced.

First thing was first.

He leaned his arm against the wall over the toilet, head bent, eyes closed as he relieved himself, trying to ignore the staccato rhythm being played against his brain.

Once he'd taken care of the more pressing matters, he moved over the sink. Gripped the edge of the counter.

Looked in the mirror.

_Yikes._

Not a pretty picture. Still, not nearly as bad as the Living Dead impersonation he'd been rockin' the last couple weeks.

_Fucking reaper._

He instinctively reached for the first aid kit so he could chug about a bottle of aspirin, before realizing it was still out in the car. He hadn't even brought in a change of clothes for the shower.

He sighed and ran the faucet, splashed some water onto his face. Did his best to get the game face back in position. The last thing he needed right now was to set Sammy off again. The amount of hovering his brother had clocked in these past few days had more than fulfilled the quota from the missing two years he'd been at college. Dean could really do without him putting in any overtime.

Besides, he was cured.

No trace of anything was wrong with his heart. No trace there ever was.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was just…

Wrong.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Dude…you okay in there? You didn't like, fall and knock yourself unconscious on the sink or anything did you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Put a hand up to squeeze his forehead when even that small motion hurt. He pulled open the door, having to step back in surprise after almost colliding with his brother, who was standing right outside.

Sam held out a stack of clothes.

"Thought you might want these."

Dean took the folded sweats. " Uh, thanks."

Sam studied his brother for a minute, a look on his face like he wanted to ask if Dean was all right but didn't want to actually ask the question.

"Dude…personal space," Dean prompted, moving to nudge the door closed.

Sam stepped out of the way.

"Dean…," he began.

Dean tensed.

Sam's eyes stayed on him a moment longer "Just…don't use all the hot water, alright?" He said, his body language conveying the concern he didn't voice.

"No worries, Sammy." Dean replied, shutting the door on his brother.

On the conversation.

Dean rubbed his temples again.

"No worries."

* * *

Jess sat on the edge of the bed. She grabbed a ponytail holder off the nightstand and fixed her hair up into a sloppy bun.

Sam would be home soon.

He'd called her from the road, letting her know he and Dean were close.

She made her way into the kitchen, stopping to grab a potholder and a spatula from the counter drawer as she headed to the oven.

She checked the clock. Opened the oven. Peeked inside.

_Perfect._

She pulled out the tray of cookies, savoring the scent of warm chocolate.

It was funny. She never thought she'd be one of those girls to count the minutes until her man returned, but damn it, she'd missed him. So what if that meant she was whipped? Sam was her fiancée. Her future husband.

And he'd be home soon.

She felt the butterflies in her stomach just thinking about how good it would feel to hug him again. Kiss him again.

God, she'd missed him.

Dean, too, despite the little time they'd known each other.

Sam hadn't gone into the details when they'd talked- she'd press him later- but he'd confirmed what she'd asked. Dean was better. Somehow cured...some miracle treatment. She didn't know how yet, just knew he was going to be okay. Still not a hundred percent, but getting there.

Would get there.

She scribbled out a note on a spare piece of paper. Placed it on the plate beside the fresh cookies.

She smiled, giving the scene one last look before heading upstairs to take a shower. To get ready.

Her boys would be home soon.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home." Dean called tiredly, tossed his bag unceremoniously onto the floor.

"I think that's my line," Sam said, stepping around his brother. He swung the faded duffel off his shoulder.

Dean sank gratefully into one of the kitchen chairs. "Such a buzzkill, dude."

Sam smiled.

"Jess?" He called."Jess? You home?"

"Maybe she went out." Dean suggested, eyes falling on the plate of cookies.

Sam fingered the keys on the wall hook. "Car's here. She's probably just upstairs." He glanced at Dean. "If you're tired, the couch is still made up for you," he added. A not so subtle hint that Dean looked exhausted.

"I'm good for now."

Truth was, he was stiff, sore, had the headache from hell, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next month and a half. Still, a week ago he was staring death in the face.

A little headache he could deal with.

At Sam's hesitation, he sighed.

"Dude, seriously, I'm fine. Just a little tired." _But not enough to go to bed at 9:30._

"Okay," Sam nodded. "I'm…gonna go upstairs," he pointed with his thumb. "Tell Jess, we're back."

Dean nodded, fingers tracing the edge of the note on the table. 'Missed you two. Welcome home.'

Dean smiled._ Gotta admit, you snagged a good one, Sammy._

He picked up one of the cookies.

Homemade.

They were still warm.

He was just thinking how good they tasted when he heard Jessica scream.

--

_tbc_

* * *

_So? What do we think?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews guys :) The first story was a blast to write so I'm so glad you guys decided to stick around. I'm going to write this story like I did 'Beginnings' in that I'm just writing and posting as I go. So hopefully the Muse will stick around, and I don't write myself into a hole..._

_That said, let the story continue!_

* * *

Exhaustion forgotten, Dean was out of his chair before he'd even fully registered the sound.

Taking off for the stairs, he mounted them two at a time and barreled down the hallway, calling his brother's name as he burst into the bedroom.

Where he found Jessica.

"Sam!"

Jess and Sam's heads turned in unison.

"Dean?" Jess asked, eyes wide. Her hair was wet and she was covered only in a pale blue towel.

Dean pulled up short. Took a few shallow breaths.

"I heard...?" He surveyed the situation. Saw that both his brother and Jess were all right. Clutched his chest. "You people…goin' for another heart attack or somethin'?"

Sam took a step towards his brother, who had doubled over in an attempt to catch his breath, hands on his thighs. "Dean?"

"With...ya, in a sec…"

"Man, breathe. "Sam gripped his brother's shoulder. "Jess was just in the shower. I scared her that's all."

"Good to know," Dean wheezed. He took another few deep breaths. Swallowed. Then he nodded towards Jessica. "Hey Jess," he added, breathlessly. "Loved the cookies."

Jess smiled and enveloped him in a hug. "It's good to see you, Dean."

He patted her back awkwardly, then pulled away, raising an eyebrow as he took in her ensemble. "It's. Good to see you, too."

Jess looked down and gripped the top of the towel. "And, I think I'll get dressed now."

She grabbed some clothes from the dresser and made her way to the bathroom. As she passed Sam, she brushed his arm lightly. "I'm gonna go get changed. Then we can talk, okay?"

Sam smiled. Nodded as she slipped into the bathroom. Waited until she'd closed the door.

Then his smile fell.

"Shit," he breathed.

He grabbed Dean and pulled his brother into the hallway.

"Dude!" Dean hissed.

"What the hell am I gonna do?"

"Well, first...hands off, Mr. Grabbby," Dean replied, unlocking Sam's grip from his bicep. "And second...'do' about what?

Sam ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea how he was going to explain Dean's mysterious recovery to Jess. It hadn't even really crossed his mind before, hell, he'd been a little preoccupied with saving his brother's life, but he wasn't going to be able to keep her in the dark forever. He hadn't went into much detail about Dean's condition before their trip, but he'd admitted it had to do with his brother's heart. Which was now healed.

No trace there was ever anything wrong.

"What the hell am I gonna tell her, Dean?"

"Sam. Calm down…"

"Calm _down_?"Sam repeated, trying to keep his voice low. "Dean, telling my girlfriend that 'my brother was just cured by a pseudo-faith healer with magical healing powers transferred from a reaper being controlled by his wife using black magic to keep him alive,' is probably _not_ going to go over too well."

"Well, I mean, sure. When you put it _that_ way…"

"Dean!" Sam threw his hands out.

Dean bit back a smile. Then it dawned on him.

He stared at his brother. Huffed. "You haven't told her have you?"

Sam stiffened. "Told her what?"

"About you. Us. The family business."

Sam looked uncomfortable. "It...never really came up."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I see we don't play by the 'honesty is the best policy' motto?"

"Wasn't really in the Winchester playbook," Sam said flatly. "Cardinal rule, remember. We do what we do and we -"

"Shut up about it," Dean finished. "I remember, Sam." He looked down. "Just kind of surprised you did."

"Look, for all Dad's rules and orders, _this_ one I wholeheartedly support."

"Cause that's healthy."

Sam clenched his fists. "What was I supposed to do, Dean? Just one day say, 'Hey babe..feel like pizza for dinner? Oh, by the way, my family kills evil for a living?'"

Dean shrugged.

"Are you crazy? She'd have left me. Hell, she probably would have had me committed!" Sam said. "Our family is a walking, talking horror show, Dean. I'd have to be insane to tell her the truth."

Dean flinched. _Insane, huh?_ Sure, Cassie had dumped him, but hell, she hadn't wanted him committed.

Just suggested he seek out therapy.

"Dude, she's gonna be your _wife," _Dean argued. "You made her a part of this, Sam. Part of your life. You really want to keep this from her? Keep who you are a secret?"

"Dean…"

"Sam." Dean looked his brother in the eyes. "You really want to lie to her?"

Sam's jaw twitched. "I just…can't, okay" he said quietly. "Not yet."

"Can't what?" Jess asked. She leaned against the door frame, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.

Sam just stood there, mouth flopping like a fish.

"Can't…wait to get a little shut eye," Dean answered quickly. He put on his most pathetic face. "Sorry, kids, but I am _beat_. You know, still not feelin' all that well…" He faked a small cough. "Hate to end this little party, but I think it might time to call it a night." He cleared his throat, shot his brother a pointed look.

"Uh...actually Jess," Sam began," Think I'm gonna turn in, too. Been a long few days, you know?"

She studied him a moment, then nodded. "Sure," she said, giving him a quick kiss. "I'll be up soon, alright? Dean, why don't you go ahead and lie down? I'll get some fresh sheets ."

"You are just too good to me, Jess," Dean said. "You know, things don't work out with my brother…" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Jess smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," she said, heading for the linen closet.

Dean followed. "You're welcome," he murmured, as he passed his brother.

Sam watched them disappear down the hallway. His past and future having suddenly collided.

He took a deep breath.

And wondered how the hell he was ever going to make this work.

* * *

_I know, I know. Not much Sick!Dean in this chapter.- hangs head in shame- but I do plan to include some gratitous Dean suffering in future chapters. Just because I can._

_I totally love this whole fanfic deal :P_


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the delay in posting. Stupid real life._

_But now, a little Winchester introspection for ya…_

* * *

Dean turned over for about the hundredth time.

Though he was thoroughly sick of lying on Sam's living room sofa, this time his discomfort had nothing to do with lumpy couch cushions.

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

For starters, the strange chill he had experienced since he'd been healed was still there, sitting… waiting like some dormant virus. He hadn't been able to explain it to his brother but he could feel it at the pit of his stomach. In some ways it was worse than the unnatural cold he'd felt after the accident, the inability to get warm no matter how many blankets or sweaters he piled on. This…

This scared him.

Slowly, he pushed himself to a sitting position, surprised at the effort it took. He'd slept almost the entire drive back, but he still felt tired, drained. Not like a man who was supposedly healed. Supposedly healthy.

Dean rubbed his neck.

Hell, it was probably just his body recovering. His entire nervous system had been deep fried only a week ago, he should probably expect some side effects. Not to mention what the little jump start from Roy had done.

He was recovering, that was all. End of story.

Massaging his temple, Dean grit his teeth against the building pressure in his head, tried switching his thoughts to something a little more pleasant.

His little brother was getting married.

Dean leaned his head back against the cushions. He smiled as he remembered the embarrassed flush that had crept across Sam's face when he'd told Dean the news. As if he'd been afraid of his brother's reaction, afraid Dean wouldn't accept the life he'd built for himself.

But Dean wasn't their father. He may have stood by the old man when Sam walked out, but Dean had never intended to cut his brother out of his life. Never blamed him for wanting something better.

For wanting normal.

Dean would never blame Sam for that. In reality, some tiny part of him was jealous, some part of him wanted that life for himself. Knew he would never get it.

No, he didn't blame Sam. He was proud of his brother, proud that he got the life he wanted. The life that was stolen from their father, the life Dean would never get to know.

At least one Winchester would get a chance at happiness, and that was good enough for Dean.

Besides, he liked Jessica.

First off, she was hot… so, way to go little brother. But more than that, Dean had been both surprised and grateful by the acceptance and warmth she'd shown him. He didn't have that much experience with relationships, but something told him most women wouldn't be that thrilled with their boyfriend's long lost dying relative breaking into their house in the middle of the night.

Jess had not only accepted him, but welcomed him, took care of both brothers while Dean was sick. Sam needed someone like that in his life. Needed someone to take care of him if Dean couldn't be around.

Dean let the hand fall from his forehead. Felt the chill in his stomach. Waiting. Growing.

Especially since he might not be around much longer.

* * *

Upstairs, Sam lay still.

Most kids argued with their parents when they were told to go to bed. As a child, Sam never had that problem. Of the many things he fought about with his Dad, sleep had never been an issue.

For Sam, it was a luxury.

Sharing a room with both his father and older brother, Sam didn't get much 'alone time' growing up. Especially since his mother was murdered by a supernatural killer and his Dad had become a tad paranoid.

Pretty much the only time Sam really had to himself was when he was sleeping…or pretending to be asleep. It was during those few hours that he could think, or dream, or focus on whatever he wanted without being interrupted. Those few hours, that he was free from his Dad's lessons, the constant reminders from his father to get it together, to stop daydreaming and pay attention. To always be on guard for some unseen enemy.

As an added bonus, during those hours, he was free from his brother's constant teasing. Dean was one of the smartest, most responsible people Sam knew, but when he wasn't training or hunting, he also had the attention span of about three minutes. And he liked to fill those three minutes by pestering the hell out of his little brother.

So Sam pretended to be asleep.

When he was older, he learned another use for this trick.

It got him out of some pretty uncomfortable discussions.

Sam heard a noise. Held his breath. Picked up the telltale creak of the second stair, signaling that Jess was returning.

He took a breath, slowed his heart rate, evened out his breathing the way he had taught himself all those years earlier. Waited for Jess to come into the room.

He felt the bed dip slightly, followed by a hand brushing his arm. Felt a soft kiss on the top of his head.

Felt like a complete and utter shit.

After a moment, he heard the soft rustle of sheets and felt the bed shift as she turned over and settled down for the night. Heard her own breathing even out as she relaxed into sleep.

Sam lay still.

Dean's voice echoed in his head.

_You made her a part of this, Sam. Part of your life. You really want to keep this from her? Keep who you are a secret? You really want to lie to her? _

_Fuck_.

Sam opened his eyes. He hated lying to Jess, or deceiving her, anyway. Technically, he hadn't actually _lied_ about anything, just sort of…omitted.

A lot.

_Fuck._

His brother was right. Jess should know….about him. About them. She was taking his name, she would be a part of their family. She deserved to know.

He wanted her to know.

Sam wanted her to know the man she was marrying, not this two-dimensional Sam he'd crafted. All of him, all the weird, horrifying, warped things that had made him who he was.

The man she loved. A Winchester.

Sam blew out the breath he'd been holding. Felt Jess shift beside him.

Tomorrow then. He'd tell her…

Tomorrow he'd tell her everything.

He expected he should be scared. After all, Jess was an amazing person, but he was going to lay some pretty heavy shit on her. Still, he trusted that she could take it. After seeing her with Dean, seeing her handle this whole situation, it only solidified the love he felt for her. The trust he had in her. He knew she was the one.

He knew he was making the right decision.

Feeling like some unknown weight had been lifted off of him, Sam closed his eyes. Let his mind settle.

And drifted to sleep.

-tbc

* * *

Okay, so...

This story may or may not find eventually discover a plot. _- busts out metal detector-_ I swear I'm lookin' for it, but that sucker's buried deep.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you everyone for the reviews! I'm so glad to see you all are liking Jess. I have to admit, she was supposed to have met an unfortunate end several times already in this 'verse but turns out I've gotten a tad protective of her ;)_

_And now...let's abuse Dean some more, shall we?_

* * *

Sam woke early the next morning, the rays of sunlight just beginning to peek through the bedroom window. He rolled his head on the pillow. Saw Jess still asleep, long blond hair spilling across her back. He smiled at the sight of her, ran a hand lightly over her arm. She sighed, moved into his touch then settled back into her dreams.

Sam pulled back the covers, careful not to disturb Jess as he rose. He stretched, muscles still stiff from days of driving, and stumbled towards the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, his mind ran over the decision he'd come to last night. Over the discussion he needed to have.

Though still unsure of exactly how he was going to ease into the topic, Sam was convinced he was making the right choice in telling Jess about his family.

And speaking of…

Covering a yawn, Sam made his way downstairs to check on Dean. He didn't really think his brother would be up yet, it was still early and Dean had never really been a morning person, but Sam wanted to talk to him. Wanted to thank him for the little diversion he'd pulled last night. Sam had needed those nighttime hours to think, to get things straight in his head. This whole situation with Dean had just happened so fast…two years of normal and suddenly the worlds he knew had collided. Sam hadn't been prepared for it at first, but at least now he felt a little more stable. A little more in control.

He padded softly into the living room, not wanting to wake his brother if he was still out. Dean had always been a light sleeper, and Sam didn't even want to think about his reaction time after a couple years of hunting solo.

As he moved closer, he could see Dean still huddled on the couch, his back to Sam.

Sam's brow furrowed.

Something about the scene before him seemed…off.

Seemed wrong.

Careful not to advance to quickly, Sam moved closer to the couch

"Dean?" He said softly, putting a hand out. He made certain not to touch his brother before Dean was fully awake. Sam knew the speed with which his brother could react when threatened, the deadly force he could summon in an instant. Sneaking up on Dean was never a smart move.

"Dean," Sam repeated a little more forcefully.

Gently, he ghosted a hand over his brother's shoulder. Stopped when he felt the heat radiating through the thin cotton T-shirt, when he saw the sweat on his brother's neck.

Caution forgotten, Sam gripped Dean's arm and rolled his brother towards him.

"Dean," he said, shaking his brother gently.

When he got no response, Sam started to worry. "Come on, man, wake up."

After a moment, Dean blinked slowly, his eyes having trouble focusing on the face looming above him.

"S'mmy?"

"Yeah," Sam said, letting out a breath. "Yeah, it's okay. It's just me."

Dean pushed weakly at his brother. "Dude…personal sp-"

"-ace," Sam finished. "I got it." He let go of Dean's shoulders but didn't move away.

Dean rubbed his eyes. "S'goin on?"

"I came down to talk to you…you weren't waking up."

"Huh." Dean wiped his face, pushed the blanket down to his knees. "Musta been more wiped than I thought." He grimaced. "Hot in here."

"No. It's not… "Sam said quietly. He put a hand on Dean's cheek. " You have a fever."

"Dude..." Dean muttered, batting his brother's hand away.

Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. He stood beside the couch, face lined with concern.

"What's going on, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "Must just be a bug or somethin'. Stupid brat kid sneezed all over me at that gas station in Wyoming."

"Don't lie to me," Sam said, clenching his fists. "Are you sick again?" He swallowed. "Is it your heart?"

"Sam, relax. You were there. You heard the doctor. My heart's fine."

"But…"

"Trust me. I know the difference."

"Then what's going on, Dean?"

Dean hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've just been feeling kind of…off."

Sam's heart dropped. "What do you mean '_off'_?

"I don't know, man," Dean replied tiredly. "Different. Strange."

"For how long."

Dean played with a stray thread off the edge of the blanket. "Since we stopped the reaper."

"Okay…and you didn't mention this, because…?"

"I was just… tired."

Sam huffed. "You just came off a heart attack, Dean. You don't think it might be good to let me know you felt _off_?"

"Hey. Not exactly a regular at the True Believer's tent here, dude. I don't know how this stuff works. Thought it was a side effect of the whole healing fiesta thing."

Sam bit his lip. "Okay. You said it doesn't feel like your heart. You said you felt strange, though. Strange how?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Headaches."

Sam's mouth tightened. "What else."

"I don't know, this uh, tingling."

"Tingling?"

"Yeah. Not often, just..once in awhile. In my arms. Legs."

"Alright, that's it. We're getting you checked out."

"Sam…"

"Dean. You almost died a week ago. I'm not taking any chances here."

After a moment, Dean sighed. "Fine."

"Good." Sam replied. "I'm gonna go see if I can find someone open this early. Make us an appointment."

"Hey." Dean grabbed his brother's arm as he went to walk away. He cleared his throat. "Just a, uh…clinic."

"No." Sam pulled his arm loose. "A real doctor, Dean. In a real office."

Dean shook his head. "We can't keep jackin' up the insurance cards, man. You know the rules, emergencies only."

"I don't play by those rules anymore," Sam said, raising his chin slightly. "And don't worry about insurance alright, I'll pay for the visit. Just get dressed. We can pick up some food on the way."

He didn't let his brother object. "Just save us both the hassle and shut up."

Dean showed his palms in surrender.

Sam watched with concern as Dean pushed himself up, muttering something under his breath. Thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like _'bossy'_ and _'Sasquatch.'_ Sam smiled despite himself.

Although moving slowly, Dean seemed steady, so Sam left him to get cleaned up.

He crept quietly through the bedroom, in search of his laptop.

"Morning." Jess smiled at him sleepily.

"Morning," he said distractedly, as he bent to look under the bed. "Jess, you seen my backpack?"

"Um, I think you left it in the kitchen. Why? You're not doing work today are you?"

He avoided her eyes. "No I... need to look up a number."

"A number?"

"For a, uh. Doctor."

Worry flitted across her face. "What's wrong?"

"It's Dean. He's had a …setback." He glanced in the closet. "You sure you saw it in the kitchen? I coulda sworn I brought it up here…"

"Setback? What kind of setback?"

"I'm not sure."

"Sam."

"Maybe it's in the car…"

"_Sam_." Jess was sitting up, a look of utter determination on her face. "Talk to me."

"Jess, I'm sorry. Look, I promise, we'll talk about everything." He said quickly. "Later."

Instantly he regretted the words.

"Okay." She threw back the covers. "That's it."

Jess had had enough.

She'd play the caring supportive girlfriend card for as long as he needed. The supportively silent part? That had its limits. She'd given him space, hadn't pushed him on the details of Dean's mystery disease while Dean was sick. Knowing the only thing on his mind was to get Dean help. She knew it had to do with Dean's heart but was never offered more information from Sam, hadn't felt comfortable asking Dean. And then he'd taken off on her. To search out some mystery specialist…cure… whatever it was.

She'd expected Sam to confide in her once it was over, once Dean was better. Or supposedly better. So to hear about this setback, to have him push her away now felt like he was hiding things from her. Purposefully keeping her in the dark. And that Jess wouldn't have.

"Sam, I know you're dealing with a lot right now, but I think I've been pretty good about this." She counted on her fingers. "Your long lost brother shows up here in the middle of the night, dying, but you won't tell me why. Then he's somehow all better and you won't tell me how. Now this 'setback.' What the hell is going on?"

"It's…complicated Jess."

"How is this complicated? Don't keep things from me, Sam."

He wanted to tell her, wanted to tell her everything. But not now. Not rushed. Not in some half-assed explanation that would more than likely just freak her out or have her worried for his mental health. That would probably happen anyway. But he didn't want to have this discussion now, with his mind elsewhere. With his mind on Dean.

"Sam, I care about you," she said quietly. "I care about Dean. Don't shut me out."

Sam sighed. One look at her face and he knew he wasn't getting out of there without giving her some sort of explanation. So he settled for a piece of the truth. Call it a teaser to their big discussion. The one he was going to have once the doctor told him his big brother was fine.

"It's just…the means we used to save Dean, they were a little….unorthodox."

"Unorthodox? Like acupuncture? Herbs? I mean I know a little about holistic medicine, Sam. I'm not saying I believe in them all, but if they helped Dean then-"

"A faith healer."

She shook her head. "What?"

"A faith healer. We took Dean to see a faith healer."

Jess's brow furrowed. "Wait…like, some guy who…heals people out of a tent?"

Sam huffed. "Yeah. Somethin' like that."

"Dean let you take him to a _faith healer_?" She asked incredulously

"Well, I mean I didn't tell actually tell him we were going to a faith healer, but…okay, so not the point. Jess, look this guy, he was the real deal…"

"Sam, I'm being serious here..."

"So am I. Look, I know how it sounds alright, but I'm telling you the truth. We went to see this guy, Roy Legrange. He healed Dean. We went to the hospital. They checked him out. Did tests, scans. Everything came back perfect. He was completely healthy."

"Then why…"

"Something's happened. Something wrong."

"What?"

"I don't know…" Sam admitted. "I don't think he knows. But I'm going to find out."

-tbc

* * *

_Three day weekend kids! Hopefully I can grab the muse before he goes off to play beach volleyball and squeeze out another chapter or two :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_So I know I just posted, but_ -shrugs-_ I have gotten a taste and now I am hooked. Abusing Dean is addictive :P_

* * *

Sam paced.

Whenever he was nervous. Whenever he was worried or scared, he paced. And right now he was working on the emotional trifecta.

Dean had let Sam take him to the doctor, but he'd insisted on going in the exam room alone.

Which left Sam to wear out the carpet.

"Mr. Young?"

Sam's head snapped up at the name. Even though he'd insisted on paying, Dean had made him give the alias. Just in case.

"It's Sam. How is he?"

"Well_,_ Sam." She gave him a comforting smile. Hugged the clipboard to herself. "Your brother seems fine. We gave him a full exam, ran some tests. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He has a slight fever, but he tells me he was fighting something last week."

Sam nodded._ Yeah. A reaper_.

"Could be residual," the doctor continued. "Exhaustion. Dehydration from the illness. I drew some blood so we can rule out any sort of bacterial infection." She paused, looked at the chart. "Of course, some of the symptoms he described could be indicative of something more serious. I'd like to recommend an MRI just to be safe."

Sam glanced at Dean, who was standing behind her, looking at the floor.

"Sure," Sam said quickly. "Whatever he needs. Can he get that done today? "

The doctor nodded. "Usually our tech is pretty backed up, but I'll see if I can pull some strings." She patted Dean lightly on the shoulder. "And you. Take it easy for awhile, okay?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, thanks, Doc."

When she'd moved out of earshot, Sam addressed his brother. "So?"

"Told you Sammy. Picture of health."

"Not exactly what she said, Dean. Let's see what the test results say first."

"Fine. Whatever," Dean said. He stood hunched, hands in his pockets. "Let's just get this over with, alright. This whole medical thing give me the creeps."

Sam tilted his head. "Aw, but you were such a brave boy… I betcha if I asked nice, they'd give you a lolli."

"Keep that up and you're the one who's gonna need a doctor," Dean muttered.

Snickering, Sam headed to the receptionist desk see when Dean's test would be scheduled.

Dean scowled. "Better be cherry."

* * *

Unfortunately for Dean, they didn't head back to the apartment until mid- afternoon. True to her word, the doctor arranged for Dean to get the scan done that morning.

It was an experience he didn't want to repeat anytime soon.

He'd had an MRI before. Once. When he was 16.

He'd been hunting with his father, a nasty job with a particularly nasty spirit with an affinity for hurling heavy objects at their heads. But luckily that time he'd been so out of it he really didn't have time to focus on the unpleasantness of the experience.

Not like this time.

He'd balked when they'd showed him the machine.

_"I know." Dave, the tech, smiled sympathetically. "Can be a little freaky."_

_"Nah," Dean muttered. He ran a hand over his chest, smoothing the blue and white gown. "It's super. Lookin' forward to it."_

_Dave smiled and helped the hunter onto the table, easing him back down so his shoulders settled against the padded supports. Once he was prone, the technician covered his legs with a blanket, pulling it up to his waist._

_"Can get kind of chilly in here," Dave explained. "Gotta keep it cool for the machine."_

_Dean moved his head in a sort of half nod, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He licked his lips, took a breath. His fingers unconsciously began tapping out a rhythm on the padded table._

_"Is that… Metallica?" Dave paused, mouth curling in amusement, a pair of headphones in his hand._

_"What?" Dean asked, not even aware he'd been humming softly to himself. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. Calms me down."_

_"Hey man, never have to apologize for Metallica," Dave said handing Dean the headphones. "Classic rock fan, huh?" He placed cushioned pads on either side of Dean's neck to keep his head secure. "Me too. I know a great station so just lay back, listen to a little AC/DC and this'll be over before you know it."_

_He adjusted the headphones, then disappeared from Dean's of sight for a moment before returning with something that resembled a plastic cage._

_"I'm going to have to put this thing around your head, okay?" Dave showed him the vice-like contraption. "Then we'll get this shindig started. I'll be there the whole time talkin' to you and I can hear you so just let me know if you need anything, alright?"_

_Dean pursed his lips. Gave a thumbs up._

_"Right. Just remember to breathe, don't move and most importantly, think happy thoughts."_

_Seeing, the tension on his patient's face, Dave squeezed his arm. "Hey. Try closing your eyes. It helps." He pushed a button and Dean felt the sensation of movement as the table start to slide into the machine._

_Dean took a deep breath. Closed his eyes like he'd been told. Did his best on the happy thought part._

_He steadied his breathing and tried to concentrate on the sound of the bass drums being pumped through the earphones. On the guitar riffs._

_Not on the fact that he was encapsulated in a plastic deathtrap._

_That he was stuck in some oversized magnet._

_Trapped._

_Alone._

_Helpless._

Dean shuddered.

"Hey," Sam said, flicking his eyes from the road. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean sat a little straighter in the passenger seat. He rubbed his neck. "Just tired."

Sam glanced at him worriedly.

His brother had insisted he stay in the waiting room during the procedure, but Sam knew Dean had a thing about tight spaces. Remembered on those hunting trips when they were kids, the way Dean would flinch before entering a tunnel or tense while working a sewer job. Dean had always insisted he wasn't claustrophobic but Sam thought that had more to do with not wanting to seem weak in front of their father than anything else.

"Hey, man it's over," Sam said gently. "And now we can know for sure, okay?"

"Yeah," Dean forced a smile. His mind flashed to Laya. Of the reaper's hands on his head. Of being sure he was going to die. "Now we can know."

He felt the headache resurface, the phantom pains traveling down his legs and arms.

Suddenly, he wasn't sure he if wanted to.

-tbc

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

_And on today's menu, our special is... _

_Brotherly Bonding with a side order of schmoop._ Bon appetit.

* * *

Dean eased onto the familiar couch with a sigh_._

"So. Now what?"

"Now, I guess we wait," Sam replied, hanging up his coat. "They said it would be a little while before we got the results." He pulled Dean's leather jacket off of the arm of the chair and hung it in the closet beside his own. "You hungry?"

"Not really."

"Should probably eat something, man. We haven't had anything since this morning."

Dean gave a nod. Not that he felt like eating. He was just too tired to argue about it.

Besides, it would give Sam something to do and frankly, his brother's nervous energy was driving him nuts. Kid hadn't stopped moving since Dean had first appeared in his living room. It was a wonder he hadn't keeled over from exhaustion.

"Jess?" Dean asked, raising his voice so his brother could hear him from the kitchen.

"It's Monday. She's at work."

Dean heard the sound of cabinets opening. Clattering dishes. "Monday, huh," Dean repeated to himself. Right, normal people went to work on Monday. Not that he'd know. Hunting didn't exactly follow the standard work week.

"Probably a good thing," Sam added slowly. "Give her some time to cool off. She was kind of…pissed this morning. We didn't really get that chance to talk."

.Dean winced in sympathy. "So, uh… What about you? Don't you have… work?"

"I took some time off."

Dean hadn't really given much thought to Sam's life before, but he realized now how long his brother had been wrapped up in 'Operation Dying Dean." Thought about the number of days since he'd shown up in Palo Alto. The time in Nebraska. The days since…

"You can do that?" Dean asked. "You know. Take all that?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam said casually, returning with two bowls and a loaf of bread under his arm. "I have personal days saved up."

Sam placed a bowl in front of him. Sat down beside him.

Dean looked down at the offering.

_Soup. Great_.

He was officially back on the invalid list.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly, noting the look on his brother's face. "S'the only thing we had in the house. I should probably go shopping later."

"Naw. It's great," Dean said softly. "Really," He picked up a spoon. Took a few mouthfuls as if to prove his point.

Sam smiled. Dug into his own bowl.

Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye. Set the spoon down.

He cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh, Sam…"

His brother looked up.

Dean rubbed his neck awkwardly. Jesus, he was never good at this crap. "You know, when I came here, I never meant to, complicate stuff..."

"Dean."

"If I'd known it would turn into all this, I never would have–"

"Hey. 'Nough with the guilt trip, okay? Look, we've been over this, Dean. Everything I'm doing, I'm doing because I want to. No apologizing." He raised an eyebrow. "Cause frankly, you suck at it."

"Yeah," Dean huffed. "Yeah, guess I do." He let the soup drain off his spoon. Swirled it around. "So…Jessica was pissed, huh?"

Sam cut some slices of bread. "You could say that. You know you've only seen sweet supportive, nurturing Jess, but I swear, man, she's got a temper that would make Dad proud."

"Feisty, huh?" Dean nudged his brother's knee lightly with his own. He shook his head. "Hell, what d'you you expect? People get curious about things. They have questions. Remember what you were like as a kid? Couldn't get you to shut up."

"Come on. I wasn't that bad."

"Dude. When you were 10, I almost tied you up and tossed you in the trunk of the Impala just to get some friggin' quiet."

"Wait…" Sam's brow furrowed as he placed some bread near his brother's bowl. "I think I remember that. Dad came in and caught you digging the rope out of the storage chest."

They both looked at each other and broke out in a laugh.

"Yeah, the old man was not amused," Dean said, scratching his forehead. "Though secretly, I think he thought it was a good idea."

Sam grimaced. "Well, Dad's sense of humor left a lot to be desired."

"He did his best, Sam."

"Sure." Sam ripped apart a slice of bread. Let the pieces fall into his bowl. Watched them slowly seep up the moisture. "It was real funny when he said not to let the door hit my ass on the way out."

"Hey..."Dean warned.

"Forget it, it's okay. I get it."

"You know things weren't that simple, man… "

"What about you, Dean?" Sam asked quietly. "Were they simple for you? Last couple years... I mean, Dad, I get. But you…"

Dean pursed his lips. Looked down at his own bowl. "Works both ways, dude. You coulda picked up the phone."

Sam tossed another tossed piece of bread. "I did." The crumbs landed on the surface of the soup, slowly sank under the hot broth. "Once. In September. Right after the new semester started."

_September?_ Dean thought back the last couple of years.

"Bobby answered," Sam continued, slowly. "Said that you and Dad…you both'd been hurt on a hunt. That it went bad. That you both were going to be okay, but...it was bad."

_Oh man. September. The werewolf pack._

"After that, I just, couldn't' do it," he went on quietly. "Knowing that one day you wouldn't pick up the phone. That one time you wouldn't be okay. So..."

_He hadn't._

Dean swallowed. _Well, as long as they were all caring and sharing. _

"I didn't want to be the reason," he said quietly.

Sam's brows drew together.

"You asked me why I didn't call," Dean explained. "When you got that scholarship, things were just… Different. Just like that, you had a chance. The whole college deal. What it meant. A career, stability. I didn't want to be the reason you gave that up. I didn't want to be the one to tie you down."

Sam shook his head. "It never had to be a choice, Dean. I could've had both. Had my family and still had my own life." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Normal people have both."

Dean felt his own throat tighten.

"I wanted both," Sam finished quietly.

"Dammit_,_" Dean muttered.

"What?"

"We aren't going to have to like…hug or some shit now, are we?"

A smile flickered across Sam's face.

"How bout a beer, instead?"

Dean sighed. "You are a good man, Sammy."

As he rose to go to the kitchen, Sam paused. Turned to look at his brother. Squeezed his shoulder lightly.

Dean nodded. Watched his brother walk away.

Sam wanted both. His own life, sure, but one that included his brother.

A nice thought.

Dean just hoped it was possible. For both their sakes.

-tbc


	7. Chapter 7

_Alright kids. So I have most of the remaining parts of the story laid out. Hopefully my little fanfic train can stay on track and not derail. But for now...full steam ahead ;)_

* * *

Jess called later that afternoon. Said she wouldn't be back 'till late. Had taken a closing shift to cover for one of the girls at the restaurant. They could use the extra money.

Sam caught the subtext.

_Still pissed. I'll be back when I won't bite your head off._

He knew though, that even though she was angry with him, she was also trying to give him time.

Time to focus on Dean.

Sam sighed. Shifted in the armchair. Watched the rise and fall of Dean's chest.

His brother had slept the remainder of the afternoon.

Sam let him rest, figuring it was the best thing for him. Dean hadn't even made it through his beer before he'd started to flag. Sam had simply taken the bottle from him, pushed him so he was lying down. Woken him up once for dinner. Again to get him to drink some water.

Dean took what was offered without complaint, but Sam almost wished he would put up a fight. Some resistance. Something that would make him seem more…Dean.

Once again, his brother seemed to be slipping away, and Sam was clueless how to help him.

It was a déjà vu experience he really could have done without.

Sam thrummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. Thinking things over. Watching his brother sleep.

The phone rang around nine.

Pushing himself up, Sam stumbled to the kitchen. Managed to grab it on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" Sam answered, surprised by just how tired he sounded.

"_Hello, is this Dean Young?"_

Sam froze. "This is Sam, his brother."

"Oh, _Sam. Hi, it's Dr. Schweizer. I know it's late, but I was in the office. Thought you'd want to know as soon as we had something. We got your brother's results back."_

Sam gripped the phone tighter. Knuckles white.

"_Everything looks good. Bloodwork showed no signs of infection._"

He swallowed. "And…the scans?"

"_All_ _came back clean. No sign of any tumors or abnormalities. Like I said, it's probably just due to him being run-down...Dean doesn't really strike me as the type to take it easy_."

"No," Sam replied, letting out a breath. "No, he's not."

"_Exhaustion's nothing to brush off, though._ _It's important that he drink lots of fluids and gets enough rest. He's basically running on empty, Sam. Make sure he gives his body time to recharge."_

"Sure. Right. I will, Doctor, thank you."

"_No problem. Keep an eye on him and if anything else develops, bring him back immediately, okay?"_

"Will do."

"_Alright, you take care, Sam. And take care of that brother of yours_."

Sam thanked her again and hung up the phone, his hand having a hard time finding the cradle. He leaned his forehead against the wall and let out a shaky sigh.

_Jesus._

Just exhaustion.

Well, shit. It was no wonder. Dean had been off doing God knows what for who knows how long...

Sam knew his brother. Knew how he would run himself into the ground over a job. Not to mention that the stupid ass was hunting alone. No Dad, no Sam to back him up. To make sure he took the 30 seconds to eat. Sleep. Give a crap about his own health.

Dean had been alone for months. Then the Rawhead, the accident. Followed way too closely by the trip to Nebraska. Dean propped up in the Impala, weakened, hurting. Dying.

_Jesus._

"Sam?" Dean's rough voice cut through his thoughts.

Running a hand through his hair, Sam reentered the living room. "That was the doctor's office."

"Uh huh..."

"They got your tests back. Everything was normal," Sam said, relief evident in his voice. He dropped heavily into the armchair. Rubbed his eyes.

"That's uh. Awesome. Good to know."

"Gee. Don't sound so thrilled," Sam said. "Thought you'd be a little happier, man. You know, especially since someone said you were normal."

"Doin' cartwheels, bro. It's just…"

"What?"

"Think we may have a different problem."

"What is it," Sam asked, slowly sitting up straighter. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh. Can't see."

"See what?" Sam asked, looking behind him. The TV was off.

"Anything," Dean said quietly.

"Yeah," Sam scoffed. He leaned over and waved his hand in front of his brother's face.

Dean didn't so much as flinch.

Sam's eyes widened as he realized what Dean was saying. "Oh my God."

He slid down so he was on his knees in front of his brother. Gripped his arms. "When- "

"Realized a few minutes ago. When I woke up," Dean admitted, his eyes staring blankly past Sam. "Actually, wasn't really sure I had. Opened m'eyes and everything was just…dark."

Sam just gaped at him. "But I don't understand…I mean, all those tests..."

"Yeah," Dean huffed. "Think we might want a second opinion."

"We're going to the hospital. Now." Sam went to stand.

"_No."_ Dean pulled his brother back down.

"Are you kidding me with this? People don't just go _blind, _Dean. Something is seriously wrong. We have to get you some help."

"Sam. Trust me. They can't help."

Sam ran a hand over his face. "Dean. Please, you're not making any sense."

"I don't think this is a medical thing," Dean said slowly. "I think it's a…supernatural one."

Sam put the pieces together. "You think this has to do with the reaper."

Dean tapped his nose.

"But … I shattered that cross, Dean. I destroyed the alter. Destroyed the link. It can't be after you anymore."

"I don't think what's happening is connected to the binding spell. I think it might have done something when it… touched me."

Sam rocked back on his heels. "Woah, hold on. It _touched_ you? The reaper physically touched you?"

"Yeah. It uh, put it's hands on me. On my head."

"_What?_ When?"

"Outside the tent. While Roy was healing Layla. While you were after Sue Ann."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about this?"

"Slipped my mind?" Dean offered softly.

"_Slipped your- " _Sam kneaded his forehead. "Give me your phone."

"My phone? Why- ?"

"You really want to waste time arguing right now or you want me to do something about savin' your ass?"

Dean grunted and dug in his pocket. Handed Sam the cell.

"Alright," Sam said. "Now, just… stay here."

Dean gave him a 'I'm blind, you idiot. Where would I go?' look.

"I'll be right back," Sam said, getting to his feet. "Then dude, we are gonna have a SERIOUS talk about your communication skills."

"Where are you goin'?" Dean asked.

Sam clutched the phone. "To get a second opinion."

-tbc

* * *

_For everyone that has been commenting along with this story, thank you guys! I promise, I will reply back but my mail account is weird and doesn't really note when I respond so I plan to go through them all at the end so I don't miss any. But thank you for the encouragement. You guys make my day :)_


	8. Chapter 8

Sam stood on the porch. Stared at the phone in his hand.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled up the list of contacts. Found the one he was looking for.

He had barely pressed SEND before it was answered.

"_Dean?" _The gruff voice answered worriedly._ "Dammit, kid. I've been tryin' you for weeks. You okay? You hurt?"_

"Hey, Bobby." Sam said quietly.

A pause_. "Sam? That you?"_

"Yeah."

"_Huh." _Bobby said after a beat._ "Didn't expect that one. You with Dean?"_

"Yeah, he's here."

"_You boys, okay?"_

"No," Sam replied. "No. Not really." He sank down onto the top step. Filled Bobby in about the events of the past couple weeks. The Rawhead. Dean appearing in his apartment. The trip to Nebraska.

The Reaper.

"Look Bobby. I know it's a long way...It's a lot to ask but I'm outta options here, and Dean…I don't think he has much time..."

"_You still at school? At Stanford?"_

"Yeah, Palo Alto."

"_Might not be as long a way as you think. I'm workin' a job… a favor for a friend in San Francisco. Can be there within the hour."_

Sam let out a breath. "Thanks man. And Bobby?"

"_Mmm?"_

"Hurry."

* * *

Sam paced.

"Dude," Dean said. He was lying down, left arm draped over his eyes. "You tryin' to wear a hole in the floor?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Plopped down in the chair anyway.

He glanced at his watch again.

A knock at the front door had both brothers turning toward the sound.

"Speak of the devil," Dean said, dropping his arm.

Sam practically ran to the door. Threw it open. Sighed in relief at the figure on his porch.

"Bobby. Thanks for coming." he said, clapping the older man on the back.

Dean heard the murmur of voices. The sound of the door closing. Felt the presence of someone standing near him.

"How ya doin' kid?"

Dean broke into a grin as he recognized the gruff voice. "Been better. I'd say it's good to see ya, man, but…well…you know." He waved towards his eyes.

"Well, at least you haven't lost that crappy sense of humor o' yours."

"Nah, that's still going strong. Can't really say as much for the rest of me, though." He smiled ruefully.

Bobby glanced at Sam. "Yeah. Well, your brother and I… we're gonna fix that right up. You just sit tight."

"Don't think that'll be an issue."

With a nod toward the kitchen, Bobby pulled Sam away.

"How long's he been like this?"

"Said he's been feeling off since Nebraska. Since he was healed by Legrange. His eyes… 'bout an hour ago. Right before I called you," Sam shook his head. "Why is this happening, Bobby?"

"You said the Reaper actually laid a hand on him?"

"He said it touched his face."

Bobby rubbed his chin. Looked up at Sam. "Then we got a serious problem."

He returned to the living room, Sam close behind. Stopped at the couch.

"Dean."

The blonde head swiveled toward Bobby's voice, though his eyes stared straight past the elder hunter.

"I need to know exactly what happened in Nebraska. What happened with the Reaper."

Dean lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Not much to tell... We went back to the tents. Sam found this alter. It had my picture on it...Sue Ann had sent the Reaper after me. I was outside, felt it behind me. When I turned, it came at me. Put its hands on my head and I felt it…"

"What?"

"Draining me. Felt like it was...sucking me dry or something."

" Sounds 'bout right." Bobby said, adjusting his hat. "See reapers… there's myths and legends in almost all religions but most texts say they're sort of an escort. A link. Between this life and the next."

"Uh, Bobby, not that I'm complainin' or anything," Dean said, "but if that thing…claimed me or whatever, why haven't I seen it again?"

"You've been touched by Death, Dean. Literally. That kind of thing leaves a mark. It doesn't need to come after you now. You come to it."

"Come to it how?" Sam asked.

Bobby looked uncomfortable. Gestured with his hand.

"Bobby, not really in the mood for charades, here, man," Sam said tiredly, nodding his head towards Dean. "Just tell us."

"You waste away. Piece by piece. Till the time comes…" Bobby shook his head. "There's just no pieces _left_."

"Super." Dean muttered

"Dean," Sam warned. "Bobby, you said piece by piece…so that's why his sight's gone..."

"That's sorta my guess."

"These other…pieces," Sam said. "How long before…"

Bobby shook his head. "I've read about this happening, but never really come across it before. No telling how long the process could take. Could be months. Could be days." He paused. "Could be hours."

"Fine, so we know why it's happening," Sam said. "Now how do we stop it?"

"Sam...if a Reaper's marked him, not much we can do," Bobby replied. "Hunting's got a lotta tricks, but some things can't be messed with and Death's one of 'em. This isn't some spirit you boys got caught up with. It's natural order.

"No." Sam shook his head. "There has to be a way around it. Hell, there's nothing natural about this. Sue Ann was controlling that reaper. She was going against nature."

"Maybe not," Dean said quietly.

"What?"

"Well, I mean think about it Sam. I was dying. The tazer...my heart. That should have been it. Roy might have healed me but…Hell, I saw Final Destination, dude. Death doesn't just give up. Maybe it's just my time to go."

"No. Not after all we just went through. I thought we understood each other, Dean. I thought you understood that I'm not just going to let you go. I won't let you go. Bobby, there has to be something."

"Not many ways to stop a reaper," Bobby said slowly. "And the surefire one I don't think you're gonna like very much."

"What is it?" Sam asked quickly. "Whatever it is, we'll do it."

"Black magic."

"Hell, no." Dean said flatly.

"Dean…"

"Forget it, Sam. You saw what happened in Nebraska. You saw what that thing did to innocent people. We don't mess with that stuff. No exceptions."

"Dean, we don't have a lot of other options here."

Bobby glanced at his satchel, propped up on the floor near the couch. He rifled through it, pulled out a book. He frowned as he flipped through the pages. "Actually…there might be one."

He ran his finger down the page, scanning the text. "Not really sure you're gonna like this one much either, but…seems there is a way to break a connection with a reaper."

"Likin' it so far," Dean said. "What exactly do we have to do?"

Bobby focused his attention on the page. Avoided Sam's gaze.

"We have to kill you."

-tbc

* * *

_Sorry for the cliffie guys. I've been trying to keep the updates coming pretty regularly but gonna be gone all weekend so probably won't have something new until early next week..._


	9. Chapter 9

_As promised kiddies. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"What the hell, Bobby?" Sam said angrily. "Getting his eyesight back isn't gonna matter much if he's _dead._"

Bobby glared at him. "You think I woulda bothered coming here if I was just gonna let him die? Now, before you get your panties all twisted, you mind if I finish?"

Sam pursed his lips. Gave a nod.

"We're not actually gonna kill him," Bobby explained. "We just have to... bring him closer to the edge. Draw out the reaper that's latched to him so we can use the spell to cut the link."

"And uh, how exactly we gonna do that?" Dean asked.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Poison."

"_What?_" Sam objected. "No way," he said, stepping between Bobby and his brother. "We are not _poisoning_ Dean."

"Look, Sam I never said it was gonna be pretty." He glanced at Dean. "Or pleasant. But there's an antidote for it. We give Dean the poison, he gets where the reaper wants him ahead a schedule. Bastard comes to finish the job…we nail it. Fix him up."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam objected. "He's already weak, Bobby. You give him that stuff, you _will_ kill him."

"Look, I'll be honest with you both….it's a risk. But it's the only thing we got."

"No. It's not the only thing," Sam argued. "Look, you just need someone close to death, right? Give it to me. I'll take the poison. I'll draw the reaper and then you can give me the antidote. My body's stronger. I have a better chance."

"No fuckin' way," Dean replied, pushing himself up on one elbow.

"Sam, even if I'd let ya, you can't just lure _a_ reaper, you need _the_ reaper. The one that's latched itself to Dean. You draw the wrong one, Dean'd still be dying and we'd all have a whole new set a problems on our hands. Gotta be him."

Staring first at Bobby, then at Dean, Sam shook his head. "This is crazy."

"Just what part of 'a reaper's tryin' to kill your brother' do you think is sane?" Bobby countered.

"Sammy, look at me, man," Dean said gently. "I'm not exactly sittin' pretty right now. If this thing goes wrong…." He raised one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm dead either way, Sam. Least this gives me a chance."

At his brother's words, Sam took a long look at Dean. Took in the pale, drawn features, his blank stare.

God, he wanted his brother back. Wanted him back the way he'd been before the Reaper. Before the Rawhead. Wanted him back the way he'd always been.

He sighed. Turned to Bobby.

"What do we have to do?"

* * *

Dean shifted on the couch. Stared at the ceiling.

What he assumed was the ceiling, anyway.

This whole blind thing was getting old fast.

Though their voices were muffled, he caught the sounds of Bobby and Sam talking outside.

It was true, what they said, about his other senses compensating. His hearing, always particularly sharp after years of hunting, seemed even more finely tuned since he his world went black

Of course, not being able to look at anything had other… side effects. The loss of his sight gave him time to focus on the internal sensations that had been growing stronger with each passing hour. Not quite painful, but definitely uncomfortable, he'd felt a shadow of the strange tremors ever since the encounter with the reaper. Over the days, they had been intensifying and lately…

He clenched his hands against the slight tingling in his hands. Gritted his teeth against the stronger sensations traveling through his legs.

Dammit, he was sick of this. Sick of being some reaper's plaything.

And to top it off, he had to pee.

No way in hell was he gonna call Sam or Bobby for an escort. Like some invalid. Besides, he'd made the journey from Sam's couch to the bathroom so many times the past week he could do it in his sleep.

Doing it blind shouldn't be a problem.

Carefully, Dean pushed himself up on his elbows. Made to swing his legs over the side of the couch.

Hesitated when they didn't move.

_Shit._

Of all the time for his legs to fall asleep. Course, he'd been lying on the damn couch for hours.

Trying to get some circulation back, he rubbed his thigh.

And felt nothing.

"The hell?"He asked aloud.

Pushing himself up a little higher, Dean pinched his thigh. Hard.

Nothing.

No twinge, no sensation.

Nothing.

Feeling his heart rate quicken, Dean focused on calming his breathing. He didn't think hyperventilating would really help his situation right now.

Losing his sight had scared him shitless, but at least he could attempt to deal with it. He could attempt to put on a brave face. But this?

Paralyzed?

No. He couldn't stay like this. Didn't know how long he could handle being this helpless before he lost it.The days after the Rawhead had been unpleasant, sure, but at least then when he'd been dying of a busted heart, he'd been himself.

Weak. Sick. But himself.

This? Wasting away a little at a time?

Suddenly, Bobby's whole poison plan didn't sound too bad.

Dean just wanted this whole thing to be over.

One way or another.

* * *

"You got the oil?" Bobby asked, as he bent over the trunk of his car.

"Yeah," Sam replied, placing the small container into his bag. "What else?"

Bobby held up a tiny vial containing a purplish-red liquid. "Plan's not gonna work too well without this."

_Poison._

He stowed the vial in his satchel. "Alright...think that's everything."

"Actually," Sam said slowly, reaching into the trunk. "One more thing."

He picked out a small canteen, silver with a delicately etched cross on the front. Held it up to Bobby.

"Drink it."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "'Scuze me?"

"It's been bothering me since I called you," Sam said cautiously. "You being in California right when we needed you. You being so close..."

"Lucky I could help you boys out."

Sam took a step toward the elder man. "We don't get lucky." He thrust the container at Bobby's chest. "Drink it."

Bobby huffed. "You think I'm possessed?"

"Can't hurt to be sure, right? Hell, I may have been out of the game for awhile, Bobby, but I'm not stupid. You're about to poison my brother. Not really in the mood for gambling."

Bobby's mouth quirked in a smile. "Well, well. You can take the boy out of the huntin'…"

With a snort, he grabbed the canteen, took a long swallow.

Sam tensed. Watched for any reaction.

After a moment, Bobby licked his lips. Shoved the container back at Sam. "Satisfied? Or you wanna impale me with a wooden stake while you're at it?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, no," Sam said awkwardly. " I mean...think we're good. Sorry, man."

"S'alright," Bobby replied. "Look, Sam. I know you're worried about Dean, but I'm not possessed. And I wasn't lyin' to you either." He capped the canteen. "Not exactly."

"San Francisco...there was no job, was there?"

"Oh, there was a job," Bobby replied. "I'm lookin' at it."

"What..." Sam said, brow furrowing. "What, you mean me?"

Bobby nodded. "When Dean didn't check in...thought somethin' might have happened to him. Wanted to make sure nothin' happened to you."

"Well, I mean, thanks for the concern and all, but..."

"Like I said. I was doin' a favor." Bobby closed the trunk. Kept his eyes away from Sam's. "For John."

"Dad?" Sam froze. "Jesus. Bobby, you know where he is?"

The elder man shook his head. "One thing about your Daddy…when he wants to disappear, he does it damn well." He looked down at the ground. "Nah, he gave me a number, a voicemail. I would call it now and again. Sometimes get a text. Coordinates. I'd forward some on to Dean, send some jobs his way. Easy stuff, things to keep him busy…"

Sam's eyes widened. "The Rawhead. You sent him there."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Shoulda known it was a two person job. But. I wanted to keep him busy. Keep him from takin' off after your Dad. He said he could handle it so… Hell, if I woulda known…"

""Bobby, what happened to Dean...it's not your fault. Besides, it was Dad that took off on him. Left him with no backup. Abandoned him."

"You Dad left for a reason, Sam. He's on to somethin'. Didn't want you boys to get hurt."

"Well, that's our Dad," Sam said sarcastically. "John Winchester. Father of the Year."

Bobby's face softened. "Hey, John might be in the runnin' for World's Biggest Jackass... But he loves you boys."

Sam rubbed his neck. Changed the subject. "Any idea what he was after?"

"Somethin' big...somethin' dangerous."

"The thing that killed Mom," Sam said slowly.

"A demon," Bobby replied. "I talked to him. Right before he disappeared. Said he'd gotten a lead on it. More importantly, a lead on a way to kill it."

Sam leaned back heavily against the truck. "Dean know about all this?"

"No."

"I don't think we should tell him," Sam said quietly. "Not now, anyway."

Bobby put a hand on his shoulder. "How 'bout we focus on one problem at a time, huh?"

Sam gave a half smile.

"Now if you're about done...," Bobby said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. "Let's go save that brother o' yours."

-tbc

* * *

_As always, thanks for all the reviews guys!_

_(And by the way, some of you are gettin' good at callin my plot twists. Must be losin' my touch ;)_


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

_So sorry for the delay in posting. My computer got a virus and so I pretty much had to wipe the entire thing and start over. It's back to normal now so onward we go :)_

* * *

Dean caught the creak of the front door, heard the familiar footsteps that signaled his brother and Bobby returning.

He turned his head toward the sound. "Get everything?"

"We're good." Bobby replied. "How you holdin' up?"

"Awesome." Dean answered. "Well. You know, cept for bein' the whipping boy for a servant of the underworld, having to piss like a racehorse, and not bein' able move my legs..." He trailed off.

Sam's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I have to piss?"

"Dean..."

"My legs." Dean answered quietly. "I uh, can't feel 'em."

Sam shot a look at Bobby.

"Looks like we better get movin'," Bobby said, dropping his bag. "I'll get started with this," he said to Sam. "You take care of your brother."

Sam's jaw tightened. He moved over to the couch and leaned over, placing one hand under Dean's knees, another behind his back.

Dean jumped at the contact. "Dude…the hell you think you're doin'?"

"Helping." Sam said simply.

"You wanna help, then back off," Dean replied, pushing his brother away.

Sam took a step back. "You plannin' on willing yourself off the couch? Cause I don't think Jess'll be too happy if you mark your territory all over our sofa."

"Sam..."

"Dean, everything that's going down, this is what you're worried about? Let it go, man," Sam said gently. "Let me help."

Dean grimaced. "This is _so_ going on the list of 'Things We Never Speak Of Again'."

"I'll be sure to add it," Sam replied wryly. "Right after that Nair in my shampoo stunt you pulled when I was 12."

Before Dean could object further, Sam reached over and hoisted his older brother into his arms, stumbling a little as he turned. Dean may have lost weight the past few weeks, but he was still all muscle. Adjusting his grip, Sam slowly, and carefully, headed towards the hallway.

Bobby watched them go.

John's boys had always amazed him, the way they needed each other. The way they completed each other. Even now, with the damage inflicted by the reaper, Bobby couldn't help but think that Dean still seemed more complete than when he'd been apart from Sam. Those last couple years, Bobby had done his best to watch out for Dean, to be there for him so he wouldn't be alone, but he knew no one could replace the hole left by his brother. It just didn't seem fair… having them be reunited just to be torn apart again.

Bobby grimaced. He was gonna make sure it didn't come to that.

He pulled the chalk out of his bag.

And hoped to hell he knew what he was doing.

* * *

After glancing at his watch for the fiftieth time, Sam gave a soft knock on the door.

"Dean. You alright in there?"

When he didn't get a response, Sam turned the handle. Slowly pushed the door open.

Dean was sitting on the closed toilet seat, staring blankly ahead. He'd somehow finished his business, gotten his jeans up. Sam didn't know how. Didn't bother asking.

"You okay, man?" He asked softly. "If you need another minute, I can-"

Dean spoke so quietly, Sam almost missed it.

"I can't stay like this, Sam."

Moving around the commode, Sam knelt down in front of his brother. "You won't have to, alright? Look, Bobby's workin' on it right now. We'll do this and you'll be good as new-"

Dean shook his head. "We both know it's a longshot. Bobby's makin' guesses here, man. We're goin' off some book… hopin' this spell or whatever works. Hell, even if it does, there's no guarantee everything goes back to normal. That I'd get my sight back. My legs…"

Sam's face softened. "Hey…"

"I'm not goin' to spend my life like this, Sam," Dean said firmly. "Some useless lump on your couch. Not bein' able to hunt…" He grimaced. "Shit, not bein' able to take a leak without a chaperone. I just…I can't do it."

He lifted dead eyes to Sam's. "I won't."

"Dean –"

"This thing a Bobby's…," Dean continued, "this spell…. Turns out it isn't the magical mystery cure after all, you promise me you'll make sure it doesn't come to that."

It took a minute for Sam to register what his brother was saying.

What his brother was asking him to do.

"What? No…Look, you're getting ahead of yourself, alright?" Sam said, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Come on…let's just go back. Let Bobby do his thing and…"

"Promise me, Sam."

Sam swallowed, felt his throat burn. "Don't ask me that."

Dean reached out toward his brother, hand fisting in the fabric of his T-shirt. "Sam, a life of this," he shook his head. "It's worse than death. Promise me."

Sam looked away. He knew that even if they could manage to save Dean's life, his brother was right... there was no guarantee they could reverse what the reaper had already taken. Sam also knew what that meant to Dean, to spend his life disabled. Crippled.

Helpless.

But despite Dean's insistances, promise or no promise Sam knew was no way he could ever do what Dean asked, even if it would mean ending his suffering. But Sam was determined to believe it wouldn't come to that. The spell would work. He just needed to get his brother to believe that, to say what he needed to hear so they could both focus on the task at hand. They would do the ritual, Dean would be healed. End of story.

The spell would work.

"Sammy. Please."

The naked need in his brother's tone, the desperation, made Sam cringe. He had never heard his brother sound so broken and it terrified him, even more than what he was about to agree to. Slowly, he nodded. Remembered his brother couldn't see the motion.

"Okay…," he said softly. "I promise."

"Okay." Dean let out a breath, unclenched his fist. "Okay," he repeated softly, thumping his brother on the chest. "Guess we better go summon ourselves a reaper."

* * *

_Hope you all are still enjoying the story...shouldn't be too many more chapters left. Hope to update when I can and as always, thank for reading guys!_


	11. Chapter 11

Still reeling from the conversation he'd just had with his brother, Sam was quiet as he carried Dean back into the living room.

"Sam," Bobby said as the boys entered the room, "Over there." He nodded toward the white circle that was drawn on the center of the floor. Layers of symbols radiated from the outline.

Sam nodded and gently laid his brother down in the center of the chalk ring. He caught the pillow Bobby tossed him, slipped it beneath Dean's head, readjusted his legs so they were bent at the knee.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

"Good as I'm gonna be," Dean replied. "Let's get this party started."

Sam looked over at Bobby. "So how exactly do we do this?"

"First part you know," Bobby began. "Dean takes the poison, draws out the reaper. That's when things get tricky." He moved over to where Sam knelt on the floor and placed the book in front of them. "We can't just call a reaper and cross our fingers...we'll need to perform this incantation first." He pointed to one of the pages. "And we'll need to do it quick."

Sam's brow furrowed as he scanned the text. "A visibility spell?"

"Reapers can only be seen by those they're after," Bobby explained. "And Dean ain't exactly up for playin' Lookout right now."

Dean just grunted in response.

"The spell makes it visible to others," Bobby continued. "Makes it vulnerable. We can see it… we can stop it."

"Stop it…but not kill it," Sam said cautiously.

Bobby shrugged. "Can't kill death."

"Perfect." Dean muttered.

"Alright. So we make it visible," Sam said, ignoring the remark. "Then what?"

Bobby flipped the page. "We break the link."

"Doesn't sound so hard," Dean piped in.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Well, not to piss on your parade, but once that reaper shows its face we're not exactly gonna have a helluva lotta time."

"How much time we talkin'?" Sam asked.

Bobby kept his eyes on the book. "A minute. Maybe two."

Sam's eyes widened. "There's pages of text here, Bobby."

"Told you boys it was risky," Bobby replied. "But...it's all we got."

"Well, then what the hell are we waitin for?" Dean asked. "Let's do this already."

"This stuff isn't exactly easy reading, Dean," Sam said quietly. "If even one word's wrong..." He paused. "Maybe we should think about this."

Dean raised himself up on one elbow. "Uh, I don't know about you…. but personally, I'm not too keen on findin' out which 'piece' of me is next on the shopping list. We're doin' this."

Sam chewed his lip. He thought about the conversation he'd just had with his brother, how Dean couldn't afford to lose anything else. About how he couldn't afford to lose Dean. Any number of things could go wrong, but Bobby was right. This was their only chance.

They had to take it.

Bobby held out a small, silver knife to Sam. "I got the incantations covered, but the second calls for a blood sacrifice. I get to that last line, you're gonna need to cut Dean's palm and touch it to the circle."

Sam nodded as he took the weapon.

"And stay sharp," Bobby warned, as he took the vial of poison from his pocket. "We're messin' with some powerful forces here, and well…they're gonna be pissed." He handed Sam the vial then positioned himself on the couch, laying the book out on the coffee table amidst an arrangement of candles and herbs.

Sam settled himself by Dean, careful to get as close to his brother as possible without actually entering the circle. He uncapped the tiny container. "You ready?"

"Does it matter?"

Sam grimaced and placed a hand under his brother's neck, lifting his head slightly as he brought the vial up..

Dean put a halting hand on his. He cleared his throat. "Look Sam...," he began awkwardly. "This thing doesn't... I mean, uh, somethin' goes wrong, I..."

"Hey," Sam interrupted. "We can save the heart to heart for later, alright?" He squeezed his brother's arm. "After we've saved your sorry ass."

"My ass is not sorry," Dean muttered. "'s fuckin' beautiful..."

Sam mouth twitched. Taking a breath, he once again brought the vial up to Dean's lips, unconsciously looking away as his brother drained the deadly liquid. He slowly lowered Dean back down.

"Well?" Sam asked.

"Not bad," Dean replied, smacking his lips. "Kinda fruity."

Sam pursed his lips "I meant, do you feel anything?"

"Oh. Nah, nothin' yet."

"Alright," Sam said quietly. "Well, first step's down. Bobby, what now?"

"Now…we wait," Bobby answered simply. " Shouldn't be long."

Sam sat back on his heels, watching the clock. Watching Dean.

After a few minutes he heard his brother gasp, saw his breathing quicken.

"Dean?" Sam asked slowly, moving closer to his brother.

Dean didn't answer, just shut his eyes. His hands clenched, fingers scraping against the wooden flooring.

"Bobby…" Sam said, turning toward the elder hunter in alarm.

"Easy, kid," Bobby said quietly. "Trust me… it's gonna get a helluva lot worse before it gets better."

Sam turned back to Dean, his own hands clenched nearly as tight as he watched his brother's body fight against the poison.

He wanted to reach out, to give some measure of support to Dean but he knew he couldn't interfere. Instead he had to watch once again, helpless as his brother lay dying.

Dean let out a groan. He clutched his stomach, eyes squeezed tight against the pain.

"Bobby…"

"Not yet, Sam." Bobby said softly.

Dean's body arched. His eyes shot open, blank and unseeing. Sam's fingernails dug into his palms as he watched his brother struggle.

Suddenly, Dean stilled, drew in a harsh breath. Sam could see his brother's skin begin to gray, his eyes start to dull. He had seen that same thing once before.

In Nebraska.

"Bobby!" Sam shouted.

But Bobby had already begun chanting, running through the first incantation as fast as he could form the words.

"Get away from him you bastard," Sam growled at the reaper...or where he assumed it was. He couldn't see it until Bobby finished the spell, but he could at least try to hold it off. He reached behind him, grasped the iron fire poker leaning against the wall and swung at the air above his brother.

Dean let out a gasp as color flooded back into his face.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, once again kneeling by his brother's side. "You okay?"

" It's still here…," Dean said weakly. "I can…I can still feel it."

"…VISIO!" Bobby finished.

Sam's eyes widened as the likeness of a withered old man shimmered into view to the left of the circle.

"Gotcha," Sam whispered.

"Sam, we still need to break the connection. You keep that thing away from your brother until I'm finished y'hear me?" Bobby called.

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. He gripped the poker tighter. "I hear you."

As Bobby started on the second spell, Sam stepped around the circle, placing himself between the reaper and his brother. "You're not getting him," he said coldly.

The reaper just smiled, lips curling around yellowed teeth.

It raised one withered hand and slowly formed a fist.

Sam gasped as invisible bands seemed to squeeze him from the inside out.

"Sam?" Dean called frantically. "Sammy??"

Sam went down on his knees, breath locked in a silent scream. He couldn't answer his brother.

Couldn't take a breath.

"SAM!" Dean yelled again. He pushed himself to a sitting position, frantically searching for some sound that his brother was okay.

The fire poker clattered to the floor as Sam clutched frantically at his chest

Bobby broke off. "Dean, you stay put!"

But Dean was already moving, dragging himself toward the sound.

"Dammit DEAN!" Bobby barked.

"Come on you fugly bastard!" Dean taunted. "You wanna piece of me??" He paused. "Well. Another one? Come and get it!"

The reaper turned, focus once again turned toward Dean.

Sam took in a shuddering breath as it released its hold on him.

Bobby hesitated, flipping ahead to see how much was left of the incantation. If he didn't finish soon, they were all dead. Cursing, he tore his eyes from the circle and continued reading.

Pushing himself to his feet, Sam looked over at his brother. Dean's lips were blue, his body strained as the reaper once again attacked.

"Sam!" Bobby yelled. "The knife...Now!"

Pulling the weapon, Sam lunged towards his brother. He grasped Dean's palm and made a long slice, pressing the wound to the chalk line. The circle immediately glowed a bright blue.

The reaper howled.

"….iunctio vadum exsisto infractus!" Bobby yelled over the noise.

At the final line, a flash erupted from the center of the room. The hunters scrambled to cover their ears as the reaper let out a scream.

And then it was silent.

Bobby rushed over to Dean. He took a small bottle from his pocket and lifted the younger man up so he was leaning on his chest. "Dean. Come on kid. Drink it."

Dean did as he was told, the simple effort of swallowing the antidote leaving him drained.

"...the fun...over now?" He asked breathlessly.

"Think so." Bobby answered. "You boys alright?"

Dean did a mental inventory. "Still breathing. So I guess that would be a yes."

"Yeah." Sam said slowly, surveying the room. "I'm alright."

And he was.

Right up until the point he saw Jessica standing in the doorway.

* * *

_Duhn...duhn...DUUUUHN! :P_

.


	12. Chapter 12

Jessica stared at Sam, at the bloody knife in his hand. At Dean, half propped up on Bobby. At the circle scrawled on the center of the living room floor.

"Jess…" Sam whispered, taking a step towards her.

She looked at him a moment, fear and confusion flickering across her face.

Then she turned and ran.

"Jess!" Sam yelled. He started after her, but hesitated. Turned back towards his brother.

"I got him, Sam," Bobby said quietly, clutching Dean a little tighter. "Go."

He offered Bobby a look of thanks and then took off after Jessica, bursting out the front door to see her already half in the blue Explorer's front seat.

"Jess, wait!"

She slammed the door. Started the engine.

Sam stepped in front of the car. He tried to catch her gaze behind the barrier of the windshield.

"Jess….Please. Just give me a chance to explain-."

"Move, Sam." She said coldly.

"No." He shook his head. "Not until you talk to me."

They sat there, in a standoff for what seemed like forever, until finally Sam heard the driver's side door creak open.

Sam sighed in relief and started towards her. "Thank you," he breathed.

But Jess just pushed right past him and started down the street.

With his long legs, Sam caught up with her in a few strides. "Jesus, Jess! Stop!"

He stepped in front of her, went to grab her arm.

She shrugged him off.

"You want to explain, Sam?" She exploded. "Fine. Explain. Explain to me exactly what the hell I just walked in on! What the hell was happening to Dean? What the _hell_ was that…that _thing?_!"

Sam swallowed. "You saw that?"

"Of course I saw that," Jess retorted. "Whatever "that" was…."

"That…" Sam said slowly. "Was a reaper."

Jess narrowed her eyes. "A reaper…. As in the Grim Reaper-reaper."

"Yes, I mean no…I mean, there really isn't any one "Grim Reaper," there's varying accounts of reaper lore in most every religion and faith but most seem to support the theory of many individual reapers working as a collective-"

Jess just ogled at him.

Sam cleared his throat. "Nevermind. Look, Jess, I know what you saw was…unbelievable. But there are things out there…things that you thought were just stories but they're real. They're out there, Jess and some of them are dangerous. Some of them hurt people." He took a step toward her. "But they can be stopped. That's what my family does. My Dad, Dean…," he paused. "For a long time, it's what I did. It's kind of…the family business."

Jessica turned away, looked up at the night sky. "So. Let me get this straight…" she began slowly. "You're telling me…that monsters are real and that your family goes around killing them for a living?"

"Um. Yeah, pretty much."

"Uh huh." She said, turning to look at him. " And let me guess…your uncle's Santa Claus and your aunt's the Easter bunny?"

Sam ran a hand over his face. "Look, Jess, I know how this sounds… I know you probably think I'm crazy but I'm telling you the truth." He gripped her arms lightly, looked down into her eyes. "I love you. I would never lie to you."

"Really…" She replied, pulling away. "Seems to me Sam, that's all you've ever done."

"Jess..."

"Don't follow me," she said, turning back towards the car.

Sam watched with a sinking heart as she climbed into the Explorer and started the engine.

As the red glow of the rear lights faded from view, he wondered if it was his curse to always lose the ones he loved.

* * *

By the time Sam returned, Bobby had helped Dean back onto the couch.

At the sound of the door opening, Dean lifted his head. "Looks like the conversation didn't go too well," he said as Sam made his way back into the living room alone.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "No," he aid quietly. "No, it didn't."

Suddenly, he froze as his brother's words registered. "Wait. You said 'looks'..." Sam kneeled next to his brother. Holding up one hand, he asked, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Dean rolled his eyes and knocked his brother's hand away. "Three. Now how many am I holding up?" He raised his middle finger.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You can see," he said, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "I can see."

"What about…?"

Slowly, Dean swung his legs over the edge of the couch. Bracing himself on the arm of the sofa, he pushed himself to a standing position. "Looks like Bobby hasn't lost his touch," he said. He grinned over at the elder hunter," you know, for an old dude."

"Old dude my ass," Bobby snarked. "Still managed to save your sorry butt."

Sam just sat there, staring at Dean. At his brother, alive and whole and _safe _for the first time in what seemed like forever. Sam felt a lump form in his throat.

He rose to his feet.

And before either of them knew what was happening, he pulled Dean into a hug.

Dean stiffened, surprised by his brother's sudden display of affection. After a moment, he relaxed into Sam's firm grip. And though he would always deny it if Sam ever brought it up… he hugged him back.

They stood like that for a long time, locked in a rough embrace. Sam unable to let go, Dean, not having the heart to do so.

"Uh…Sam." Dean said after a minute.

Sam reluctantly released his hold, as if just letting go of his brother would cause him to disappear.

"I know, I know…" Sam said, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. "List of things we never speak of…"

"Actually…," Dean began awkwardly. "I uh, just wanted to say thanks. You know. For everything," he finished meeting his brother's gaze.

Sam nodded. Squeezed his brother's shoulder.

"Well ain't that just the cutest damned thing I ever saw," Bobby piped in. "Wish I had a video camera."

"Shaddup," Dean replied, but he couldn't hide the smile.

Bobby grinned. "Well if you too lovebirds are finished with this little Hallmark moment, I for one, could use some sleep."

"Ditto," Dean said tiredly. "You know the whole intentionally-getting-poisoned-nearly-getting-drained-by-a-satanic-servant thing? Kinda sucks," he finished, dropping heavily back down on the couch.

"Bobby, there's an air mattress in the closet upstairs," Sam said. "I can get it set it up for you."

"Boy, I just circumvented Death itself, I think I can handle pumpin' some air into a plastic bed."

Sam held up his hands. "Fair 'nough man. Closet's the first door on the left. Pump's on the second shelf."

With a nod, Bobby headed up the stairs.

Sam plopped down next to Dean. "I can't believe it's finally over," he said in amazement.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Crazy few weeks, huh?"

"You could say that." Sam scrubbed his hands over his face. With the adrenaline rush finally fading, his body felt like it had been hit by a semi.

Dean watched his brother. Saw the stiffness in his shoulders that had nothing to do with fatigue and stress. "Give her time, Sam." Dean said gently. "She'll come around."

"I don't know, Dean. That look on her face…the way she looked at me…." Sam shook his head. "She thinks I betrayed her, man. That our whole relationship was one big lie."

"You love her, Sam. That was never a lie."

"I should have told her, Dean," Sam said." I should have been honest with her from the start. "

"Give the girl a break, dude," Dean said. "I'm sure this wasn't exactly what she expected to find when she came home tonight."

Sam huffed. "No kidding."

Dean thumped a hand down on his brother's knee. The other he used to stifle a yawn.

"Past your bedtime?" Sam teased.

"Hey. Semi-poisoned guy here," Dean replied.

"Oh sure, that old excuse," Sam said, the corner of his mouth twitching. He reached over and grabbed a blanket, draping it over the two of them. "Hey Dean?"

"Mmmm?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest, shifting a little to try and find the most comfortable position.

Sam watched him quietly. "It's good to have you back," he said softly.

"Ditto, bro," Dean said, eyes already closed. "Ditto."

* * *

_Ooh, home stretch. Probably just one more chapter to wrap things up... Been a great ride guys!_


End file.
